Another Day of Sun
by KenCosgrove
Summary: Sebastian and Mia were thrown for a whirl when they saw each other after five long years at Seb's. With Mia's new shoot lasting a year in L.A., how small could L.A. possibly get?
1. Chapter 1

**Another Day of Sun**

 **Chapter One**

It was an unusually warm day in the city that never sleeps. The palm trees were dancing in the light breeze. There was a late 70s Cadillac Eldorado cutting through traffic, blue in hue. The slick haired man behind the wheel was miles away. He was tapping his steering wheel methodically, humming to himself; his horn-rimmed shades hanging from his nose. He pressed them up to the bridge and then slapped the turn signal, changing lanes once again. He scatted along to the jazz radio. The digital radio read-out spelled 103.9.

"This is barely jazz." Sebastian mumbled to himself. He turned the dial to _The Mix 106.7_.

He was meeting a work associate Jonny Tay at the bar in Fairfax for an afternoon meal. He had almost made it when a bad accident on Rosewood had him gridlocked. He honked generously with traffic, thinking quietly that he was joining in on everyone's angst. Finally, someone turned around the accident and made some space for the Cadillac to clear by. He took the opportunity to lay the hammer down and fly clear of Rosewood, and take Clinton instead. Just as he made the turn, a rich bimbo in a Mercedes AMG came out from the other lane, and nearly hit the left front fender.

"I'm _drivin' here_!" Seb shouted out the convertible. The young woman gave him a finger wag and he returned it, displaying a gold ring to the world.

Once he was clear of the accident, it was a smooth trip leading all the way into his afternoon meal.

There were a few new acts planning to perform at _Seb's_ in the coming week, and Jonny Tay was anxious to get more lined up.

"Business is better than it's ever been, man. We have to capitalize while we can." The young dark haired and tattooed man said.

"You assuming we're going under at some point?" Sebastian said while drinking a tall radler. "You gonna run me under, Jonny?"

"Seb, you know I'd never do that. I'm working _for_ you. I'm just doing some club promotion. How do you expect to buy a nice place if were always in the basement?"

"The basement's a nice place." He said, gulping down more beer. "It's simple and easy. People know where we are."

"But they don't know who we are." Jonny chomped off a large piece of chicken from a wing. "And they will."

"And they will." Sebastian smirked, looking forward towards the television above the bar where commercials were running through.

"You wanna go see that new movie _Eleanor_ this weekend?" Jonny began.

"No, I don't" Seb's neck stiffened. "Ya getting on my nerves with all these movies."

"Cripes man, I only asked you twice."

Sebastian paused a moment while drinking.

"Sorry." He put the glass down. "No movies right now."

"Well alright. You got any plans this weekend?"

"None that can't be changed for something good."

"There's a promotion party for that new movie with Jude Law and Kathrine McElroy, _A Future Not My Own._ Saturday night in the Hills." Jonny took a swig of Canadian and ate another wing.

"I guess I could make my way up there." He smirked. "There a piano there?"

"Think they have an Essex or something. I talked to the event organizer if they needed a band."

"And?" Sebastian said, with his face beginning to glow.

"No, they have one."

He put his drink down quickly and smugly laughed. "Some day, I'll play a party. Again. And not in a red leather jacket."

"When the world loves jazz again." Jonny mused.

"Won't be long buddy." Seb placed his hand on Jonny Tay's shoulder. "Won't be long."

* * *

"I'm gonna be late again. Again!" She shouted, alone in her Mercedes. Two cups of coffee, neatly placed in her cupholders, were both almost empty. She picked one up and gulped it down. "Great. And I need another coffee."

The woman ran her hand through her red tussles of hairdo. Her eyes widened. "I forgot to go to Tania for hair." She pressed the voice button on the steering wheel.

"Mercedes, Call Tania Ramos."

"Calling Tania Ramos." The cars monotone female responded. After telling Tania to meet her for an emergency appointment in 20 minutes at the Warner Brothers studio, Mia was caught gridlocked on Rosewood, heading west towards La Cienega.

"Come on." She huffed. "Why does this only ever happen when I _need_ to be somewhere? God conspires against me!" Suddenly a car pulled out of the way and the way cleared for her to rush through.

"Finally!" She shouted. Depressing the accelerator, the car bolted off the line. From behind the wreck on Rosewood, a big blue Cadillac rushed into oncoming just long enough for Mia to spot it. She immediately slammed on the breaks and smashed her hand into the horn which blared loudly. The empty and half full cups of coffee flew out of the cupholders, flying into the dashboard, and splattered lukewarm coffee all over her car, including her Vera Wang dress. The man in the car screamed something intelligible out the air of his convertible.

Mia lifted her middle finger to him and scoffed. "You ruined my damn dress!" She didn't bother to turn her head.

"What an idiot." She continued.

The rest of her drive to the studio was fairly uneventful, as she tried to clean coffee from the dash and salvage her dress. "Blot, not wipe" She repeated to herself. Upon pulling into the parking lot, a grip was waiting in a club cart.

"Mornin' Mrs. Dolan." He said as she approached on foot. "What happened to your…"

"Don't ask." She said curtly. "Just take me to the shoot." She threw herself down onto the seat and put her sunglasses on. "I hate LA drivers. This is why I moved to New York. Everyone should move to New York." The grip smiled as they drove towards the coming days' long shoot on Soundstage 5.

The day also consisted of a partial shoot along Wilshire before Grand Ave. That was supposed to last 4 hours but ended up last 6 and causing major delays to traffic (Which Mia regretted as memories of her hating film shoots reappeared in mind). As the shoot closed and she made her way back towards the parking lot, Mitchell Hardisty, one of the producers ran up behind her.

"Mia," he huffed, catching his breath. "I was hoping you'd come to a get together this weekend, in the Hills."

"What for?" She continued walking towards her car.

"Promotional, for that new movie. Uhh… The Future Not My Own or something like that."

"Oh, the one with Jude Law." She remembered.

"Yes, anyway, there are a few collaborators who'd like some representation. Free drinks, right?"

"Alright," She smiled. "You've convinced me. I'll be there."


	2. Chapter 2

Another Day of Sun

Chapter Two

"No, sweetie, it's just a gathering sort of thing. It's not what you imagine when someone says _Hollywood Party_." Mia smiled, calming her scornful husband at the activity. "How's my little darling?"

"She's good." David replied. "She misses her mother, a lot."

"I miss her too. I'll be home soon for a break in filming."

"Why don't we just come and visit you? The two of us." David piped up.

"You'll be without me most of the days!" She cooed. "I'm so busy, David. I don't have time to see you both."

"Alright." His voice resounded in the speaker. "Love you."

"Oh, David." Mia sighed. "Don't be like that."

"Be like what? Tell you I love you?"

"You know what I mean. Don't be like that."

"Alright. Well, I do love you. And I want you to come home soon during one of your weekends. Fly back to New York."

"Okay. I'll book it soon. Love you both."

"Bye Bye." David hung up the phone.

There was a long winding road that lead up to the Hollywood house where the party was being held. It was nestled just far enough away that you could see Venice Beach over the rolling hills, but not so close that you could hear the beachgoers echoes in the night. It was an mid-century house, something Mia didn't like much; edges on everything. Even the rear patio pool had tight edges everywhere. There were guests in well dressed suits and dresses, a band playing soothing music in the corner; a very average party in all. A few well-known faces were amongst the crowd, some certainly that would turn heads at a regular get-together, not so much in Hollywood. Kathrine McElroy was surrounded by a plot of guests, all with beverages in hand laughing loudly.

Mia was making her way through the stragglers; some said hello and looked on. A man approached, with messy hair and circular shades.

"Mia, how are you?" He said.

"Paul." She smiled brightly and gave him a hug. "It's been a while."

"Almost a year! Since Eleanor was almost done at least." He brought a drink to lips. "How's your new thing?"

"It's going well." She looked around. "We're more than hallway done now," A waitress came by and gave Mia a champagne.

"How's David and your little one?" The musical ensemble switched to play some big band songs.

"Good. They're relaxing at home in New York while I'm here all alone."

"You know my studio is always open to you," The young man smiled charmingly. "I see my date, Mia, lovely talking to you. I'll come find you later." And with that, Paul whisked himself across the yard to meet a very tall and thin woman with an olive complexion and dark eyes.

Kathrine McElroy spotted Mia as well, and came to her side quickly, asking her about Eleanor and how she enjoyed the director (with whom McElroy had previously worked). Mia made small talk briefly, and thanked her for the invitation. Kathrine wasn't the kind of woman you didn't thank; she had a swing around Hollywood that could turn even the most fearless producer or director against you. It's how Scotty Johnson got blacklisted last year and hasn't had work since. The prestige of Hollywood comes with its perks and pitfalls all the same as the rest of the worlds business.

A tall man, lacking any hair on his head and face lest a pencil thin peppered mustache, walked up to Mia as she sat down poolside.

"I'm Reggie" The man said without further introduction. He was in his late 60s, early 70s, Mia guessed. His eyebrows were thick and greying. Crowsfeet were very visible beside his smiling eyes, and he had many wrinkles on his cheeks too. His skin was a rich brown, almost like a dark wood. His voice was thick and he spoke like the gravel of a hundred years of smoking. As she thought this, he pulled a du Maurier from his pocket, and snapped open a gold lighter. "What's something like you, doing here?" He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply.

"What do you mean." Mia smiled inquisitively.

"You aren't from here," the old man pulled the cigarette from between his thin lips. "I can see it."

"I'm from Boulder City, originally."

"Missouri?" The man looked over to her.

"Nevada." Mia finished.

"Only town when you can't gamble."

"Can't gamble in Panaca either." Mia smirked, sipping her champagne.

"Never been." He inhaled on the cigarette.

"No one has." Mia laughed. "What brings you here? Little out of your depth."

"The sax."

"The what?"

"The sax. The Saxophone." Reggie smirked. "My friend put together the band. He loves that 70s groovy music. The big band but the synthesizers combined."

"Sounds… unique?" Mia laughed.

"It is." Another inhale on the cigarette. "Not something you hear everyday. That band, Saint Motel, sort of picked up on the vibe."

"Never heard of them."

"They're pretty good."

There was a brief pause in their conversation. Reggie simply smoked and Mia drank. She observed around her that a few people had become inebriated and were being ejected from the party as more flocks of people were pushing into the backyard. Kathrine McElroy was nowhere to be seen, many of the well-to-knowers had disappeared somewhere; either gone home or somewhere more secluded.

Somewhere in the distance there was a piano playing.

At first, it was a distant noise that combined with the background hum of partygoers. It was rich in tone, thick of body. It sounded of another time, Mia thought. She sat up from beside Reggie, looking about to see whence the tickled ivories came. The people around her obscured any trace of her view.

"It's in the office space." Reggie noted. "Behind us."

"Who's playing? Steinway himself?"

"Sounds like a lonely man." Reggie took a final drag on his cig. Mia frowned.

"Why do you say that?"

"The notes. They're sad. Unrequited love or something." Reggie stood up. "I've gotta go back. See you later, tomato." He clicked his tongue and winked. Mia's lips moved just enough to display a smile. She stood up, moving through the crowd to the door of the house, behind her. The piano became louder.

As she closed the door, she could distinguish the notes. It was in a rich key. Not G, nor D. Not C, or E minor. It was in something divine, like F sharp minor, or A or B flat. Something thick like chocolate and sad like rain. It was something beautiful.

As she made her way through the house, she could see a lone man, sitting at an Essex grand. It was close to 6 feet, all black lacquer with a red-topped stool. The tone wasn't bright. Mia hated bright pianos. It was smooth. Like vermouth of some sort.

As she drew closer the music became softer and she recognized the notes. They sequenced together like something from a memory. The memory drew closer, like a burst of colour and smell.

It's Lipton's, five years ago. It's a blue dress and a call in from the street to a sweet and sour story ballad. It's a brush of the shoulder after a compliment, it's careening out the door to _I Ran_ somewhere far away.

He was wearing a cream suit, with a brown silk shirt. His shoes were patent leather, his hair was well clipped in a modern style. He had a silver square ring on one finger, a gold on the other.

"Hey stranger." Mia said, quietly.

* * *

Driftin' Blues was played through the stereo speakers of Sebastian's Cadillac as he was driving up Mulholland Drive just before it turns into Encino Hills. The sun was dipping below the sea on the far horizon, and the breeze cooled his face in the open night air. He was glad to be attending another bash in the Hills; it had been a while for him. His cellphone rang,

"Are you here yet?" The voice boomed. "There's no parking."

"There's always parking." Seb jammed the phone between his shoulder and cheek, reaching with his right hand for the glove compartment. He pulled a map from the deep box. There was silence over the wire for a moment. "Park on Mott Road South, go through the two boulevards and the house is at the end of the curve."

"Thanks buddy." Jonny hung up the phone. Seb drove the Cadillac up to Mott Road South and parked behind Jonny's car. He locked the doors and waltzed between streets, dodging cars as they sped by into the sunset. The big modern house was lit up like Christmas, many people were pushing through the front door. Seb avoided the crowd and went around the side of the house.

"Whatya doin." A voice rang from beside the entrance gate.

"Taking the short cut." Seb said, approaching the large bouncer.

"Ain't no short cuts. Take the front."

"Look pal, I know Kathrine. Just let me in."

"Everybody here knows Kathrine, that's why they're here. Now go through the front." The man pointed angrily. Seb scoffed and turned, walking to the front of the house, and the squeezing through the door with a throng of guests in black suits and ladies in red dresses. Some were rejected, some accepted. That's how it worked.

There wasn't much for Seb at the party. He said hello to Kathrine McElroy for a brief moment and then she was whisked away, not to be seen again. There were a few familiar faces from the music industry; Reggie Carlisle, the old blues man, was talking to a tomato on the other end of the pool, Stuart Longmire, Keith's manager, said hello and offered him another run. Seb turned it down, shuttering after reliving the past momentarily, and Paul Mangano who ran Mia Dolan's career said hello as well. The crowd was overwhelming Seb and he looked anxiously for a door. There was one 20 yards to his 4 o'clock and he mad a dash after slipping away from some useless conversation.

The house was empty though some stragglers hung about the exits and around the stairwells looking for the bar which was coincidentally outside and as far from them as could be. There were not many rooms as the mid-century houses sort of ran each room together in open air. However, there was a more obscured section of the house around the opposite end of the pool. It had a large sliding door which lead into a small alcove office. At the other end of the office was a large black piano. Seb ran his hands over the wood, looking inside of the box to see the internals. He pulled the red topped stool from under the keys and sat down swiftly. His fingers laid on the ivory, but did nothing. Nothing came to him that inspired him.

He sighed. Thinking. One arm came up, and he rested his face upon his arm, looking down towards the sharps. Their song came to him. At first, he played just the right hand, slowly and quietly. He smiled, thinking of Lipton's.

The left hand came shortly after and the song came together once again. He drew it out, adding a few bars to the octaves of minors running into majors. Everything was beautiful once again, when Seb sat down at the piano. Everything was still golden. He let himself go, his body swinging, and his eyes closed while he sat at the piano. He moved with the song.

"Hey stranger." The sullen voice came from behind him. His hairs stood on end, and his right hand smashed a discord of notes together.

"How long you been standing there." He managed.

"Long enough." She moved methodically over to the side of the grand piano. "You still play that song."

"Every now and then, yes." He said. There was a brief pause in the air. "How's your movie?"

"Which one?" She smiled. "I'm here filming another one."

"They blend together, I guess." His mouth smirked, his eyes were empty.

"They do." She sat down beside him on the piano bench.

"How's Seb's?"

"Doing well." He turned to look at her. "We get more and more people every weekend."

"That's good, that's good." Mia stood up at the floor to ceiling windows that looked out upon the party. "Nice place. Not the Van Beek though."

"I egged that place twice. They still serve tapas."

"The nerve." Mia smirked. Sebastian stood from the piano and walked beside her, looking out onto the partygoers. More were flooding in from the gate.

"They'll cave some day. After the 3rd time I rip that sign down, they'll cave to my demands."

Mia looked to him warmly.

"I'm sure." She replied softly.

"How's uh…." Seb started.

"He's good." Mia smiled. "David. He's good. We've been apart a lot this part while."

"C'est la vie." Seb added. "You got a little girl I heard too."

"Yes, her name's Cameron."

"I see you both in the paper a lot." Seb turned and began walking towards the sliding door where he entered.

Mia said nothing but followed Seb.

"Do you have someone?" She asked, matching his pace.

"Just the piano." Seb smirked. "She's all I need. She doesn't talk back either. Although she is a little indecisive sometimes."

Mia laughed quietly. They booth stood in the empty entrance hall under a hanging light.

"You're okay?" Mia asked.

There was a short silence.

"I'm always okay."

Another silence.

"I'm gonna take off." Seb concluded. He hesitated and added, "Can I walk you to your car?"

"I'll walk with you instead. You walked me to my car last time. "

They exited the house swiftly, waltzing down the brick walk until the sidewalk, where they turned down the street. The sun was gone but there was the consistent bright glow that LA leaves in the night sky.

"Where are you living?" Mia asked.

"Same place, just more décor." Seb quipped. "I hope you aren't still in your parent's basement in Boulder City."

Mia laughed. "No, we live at the Chateau Marmont while we're here."

"A real low-class establishment. You should consider moving up in life." Seb smirked.

"I know, did you know Scarlett Johansson and Benicio Del Toro hooked up in the elevator? Or so says the French barman."

"No but I heard Zeppelin had a bad streak in the 70s there."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Mia giggled.

They continued to walk in silence for a few minutes; their shoes clacking softly against the pavement.

"Do you still think of me?" Sebastian asked, without looking to Mia. His eyes kept looking on. Mia turned her face to look into his eyes.

"Sometimes." She added nothing. He was still looking forward. "Do you."

"Sometimes." He briefly looked to her, and then kept going. The night air was warm, the street lights were glowing.

"What a waste of a lovely night." Seb said, slowing down as he approached his car.

"You got a new car?"

"Cadillac."

"It suits you." She quipped.

"Where's yours?"

"On the other side of San Rafael."

"So, the other direction completely." Seb smirked.

"So, I got lost? What can I say."

"You need a ride?"

She stood there a moment in silence. Seb walked around the car, opening his door and sitting down to the plush white leather. He put the key in and roared the V8 to life.

"Boat's gonna push of the dock. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

Mia looked to him. She grabbed the handle and opened the door, sliding into the seat.

"Where are we going?"

"Mel's Drive-In."

"What about…" Seb turned pointing behind him. He stopped, smiling and leaned back. "Mel's it is."


End file.
